


Loch Lomond

by sassywitch (itsacapitalday)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-02
Updated: 2006-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsacapitalday/pseuds/sassywitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sorrow of being second fiddle to your lovers mistress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loch Lomond

Title: Loch Lomond  
Author: [](http://sassywitch.livejournal.com/profile)[**sassywitch**](http://sassywitch.livejournal.com/)  
Fandom: LOTRPS  
Characters: Monaboyd  
Word Count: 740  
Rating: PG  
Summary: The sorrow of being second fiddle to your lovers mistress.  
Disclaimer:. Many thanks to the magnificent [](http://rawiyaparand.livejournal.com/profile)[**rawiyaparand**](http://rawiyaparand.livejournal.com/) for giving this a look over for me. Thanks sweetie. Whilst listening to the Hogmanay celebrations on Clyde 1 (really cool radio station from Glasgow <http://www.clyde1.com>) I heard this song and plot bunnies did abound. Heres a copy of the song should you want to listen as you read. This fic I thinks work better together with the song <http://s16.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2O25UMQNLKT8Y3664QQOTJDM8Z>

Just minutes ago he had been the happiest man in the whole of Scotland, possibly even the world. It was his first Hogmanay. He had always convinced Billy to come to him for New Years Eve, this time he thought it was only fair that he come to his lover. Even for the obvious delights of seeing Billy and the majority of his countrymen in kilts, he now wished he hadn’t been so magnanimous.

Less than two minutes ago they had been just like the rest of the crowd, a couple of drinks making them merry and warming their blood in the chill night air. Then they had counted down the end of the year with the rest of the 25 000 people in George Square. At the stroke of midnight Billy had turned from his position under his best mate and lovers arm, a position that was made for him, and kissed him tenderly with the promise of what would follow as soon as they arrived home.

Now, however, tears welled in Dom’s eyes as he watched Billy. Instead of Auld Lang Syne a different song had started after the last stroke of midnight. As the band had started to sing, the crowd had given the song their full voice, Billy included. The sound of those 25 000 voices singing had caused a lump in his throat even before he turned to look at his wee lover.

He had known for a long time that Bills loved him. He knew the he loved him just as much as it was humanly possible to love another person. He saw it in his eyes every time Billy looked at him. He heard it in his voice when his accent thickened and his voice changed timbre just for him. There was not a fiber of his being that didn’t believe implicitly that Billy loved him more than life.

That was until the stirring strains of Loch Lomond had filled the air around them. Watching Billy’s face, Dom had been forced to step back and just watch Billy. His sweet voice singing the words of a song that he had only ever thought of as a folk song. But to Billy and the thousands of people surrounding them this was more than just a folk song, this was something that was part of their blood, part of their souls.

He watched as emotional, patriotic tears welled on Billy’s lashes and ached to reach over and wipe them away with his thumb, and it was in that moment he made a startling realization. He knew now why Billy always returned to Scotland. No matter how much Billy loved him, he would always love Scotland more. Scotland was his mistress and there was no way for Dom to beat her.

Scotland was a part of his soul. To take Scotland away from Billy would be to take the biggest part of him. Without his homeland Billy would eventually be just the shell of the articulate, loving man that he was. Whilst Dom loved both the country of his birth and the country that had become his homeland, he didn’t have the soul deep longing to remain a part of either of them that Billy had for Scotland.

Tears clung to Dom’s lashes as he watched Billy, his voice loud and clear, lifted his arms above his head his hands clapping, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his sporran twisting to bounce on his thigh. The band suddenly stopped playing, the undulations of the bouncing crowd stopped and the voices of tens of thousands of wildly patriotic Scotsmen sent a shiver down Dom’s spine.

The band picked up the threads of the crowds song and started again, the voices around him only seeming to grow louder for a final burst of the chorus.

The last beats of the song still hung heavy in the air as Billy turned to Dom, his face flushed his hair mussed, his chest heaving with exhaustion and wrapped his arms around Dom’s waist nuzzling his sweaty face against Dom’s thick sweater. Five minutes ago Dom would have reveled in this show of affection, but now it was a hollow feeling in his chest. Billy loved him deeply but loved his mistress more, but without his mistress Dom would never have had Billy.

As much as Billy loved Dom, he would never love him as much as he loved Scotland.  



End file.
